


Reputations Don't Matter

by GrowlingPeanut



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 13.21 coda fic, Gen, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-04
Updated: 2018-05-04
Packaged: 2019-05-02 06:40:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14538861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrowlingPeanut/pseuds/GrowlingPeanut
Summary: A follow-up scene for the ending of Season 13, Episode 21. Sam and Gabriel have a heart-to-heart about their trauma.





	Reputations Don't Matter

"You okay...?"

Sam blinked and shifted his focus from the activity of the camp to the golden eyes in front of him. He forced a smile. "Yeah. Alive, so...can't complain."

Gabriel didn't look convinced, but shrugged anyway and moved back in with the cloth, wiping away the still-drying blood from Sam's neck. His hands were gentler than they had any right to be. Sam turned his attention back to the bustle of the camp. More things to focus on. More distractions.

"...you know you can be honest with me," the archangel murmured after a minute. "You don't have to pretend you're okay—"

"Neither do you," Sam snapped, harsher than he'd intended.

Gabriel pulled away, scowling. "What's _that_ supposed to mean?"

The first tendrils of regret started climbing up through Sam's gut, but he forced the feeling down. He was done saying sorry. At least in regards to this. "Look, you can tell us all about the porn stars and Monte Carlo and get your sweet, sweet vengeance on," he clawed mocking quotation marks into the air, "and do...whatever the hell you were doing with Rowena—"

" _That’s_ what this is about?" Gabriel snorted and tossed the cloth down on the bench next to him. "Sam—"

"No. Let me finish."

Gabriel settled back, raising his hands in surrender.

"You can do all of that and you might be fooling Dean, maybe Cas, but..." Sam huffed a mirthless laugh and shook his head. "I see right through it."

"Really."

"Yeah. You are so far from okay—don't think I didn't notice the way you woke up in that hotel with us. After we got you all cleaned up—"

"You."

"What?"

"You. After _you_ got me cleaned up. Dean didn't do shit." Gabriel's expression had softened, but his eyes remained sharp. Serious. "It's been you the whole time. With the scratches and the Grace and the...the, uh..." He licked his lips quickly, just a sliver of pink. "...the stitches. Point is, don't sell yourself short."

Sam chewed his cheek. "...yeah."

Gabriel's eyes flicked down and he scuffed his shoe in the dirt. "It was a nightmare, you're right." He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "I have them. I know you have them, too. And if I had to hazard a guess, I'd say they're about a certain brother of mine." Caramel eyes locked back onto Sam's as Gabriel tilted his thumb in the direction of the tent where Lucifer, Jack, and Cas had disappeared ten minutes earlier. "The one in there."

Sam swallowed, throat suddenly tight and dry.

"The one that brought you back to life."

Nausea gurgled up in Sam's stomach as he remembered what Lucifer had told him the first night they'd met. How he'd simply sighed and said _"I'll just bring you back"_ in a tone so tired and resigned, knowing full well that Sam would never _actually_ have a choice—

He barely had time to twist to the side before he vomited.

Gabriel hummed softly and Sam felt a hand on his back. Firm, reassuring. "Get it out," the archangel murmured, rubbing small circles against Sam's spine.

Another wave hit him and he dry heaved for a minute, choking on nothing but hot, bitter air. Once he could breathe again, he spit out a few strings of sour bile and sat up, slowly.

Gabriel's hand slipped up onto Sam's shoulder as he turned. "Better?"

Sam wanted to be able to say yes. But that would be going against the entire point of this conversation. So he shook his head and spit instead.

Gabriel gave his shoulder a squeeze before pulling away. Sam cleared his throat.

A few seconds passed before Gabriel glanced toward the tent again. "I'd hoped he would change, you know." He drew in a shaky breath. "Guess I should've known better, right?" He chuckled darkly and turned back. When his eyes met Sam's, they glistened a little. "I can't stop loving him, he's my brother, but...I've stopped hoping for anything better, I guess."

Sam nodded dumbly, casting his eyes down to their feet. If Gabriel started crying, he wouldn't be able to keep it together either.

"And knowing what I do about how he treated Asmodeus, getting most of it firsthand—" A strange noise escaped Gabriel's throat, something between a laugh and a sob. "I kept hoping for too long. He's never...never going to—"

This time, an actual sob came from the archangel and Sam looked up in alarm. Gabriel's eyes were wet and he was gnawing his lip. Sam reached out, placing a hesitant hand on the angel's arm.

Gabriel managed a watery smile through the tears. "Ugh, sorry, kiddo..." He wiped hastily at his eyes with the back of his hand. "What does Dean say? No chick flick moments?"

Sam's lips twitched up at the corner. "Dean's not here to see it, so who cares."

Surprisingly, that drew both a laugh and another round of tears out of Gabriel. It was strange, and more than a little disconcerting, to see this kind of emotional display. In all the years Sam had known the archangel, he'd seen a wide range of emotions, but nothing quite like this. Still, he kept his hand on Gabriel's arm. An anchor. For both of them, if he was being honest with himself.

Gradually, Gabriel’s sobs dwindled into silent tears, which further subsided into the occasional sniffle. He reached for the rag next to him, searching for a clean spot. Upon finding a relatively unbloodied corner, he dabbed at his eyes and heaved a massive sigh. "There goes my reputation,” he joked with another miserable half-laugh. “What was left of it, anyway…”

Sam shook his head and removed his hand from Gabriel’s arm, but not before giving a comforting squeeze like the one he’d gotten earlier. If anything, this had strengthened Gabriel’s reputation, finally shown the vulnerability that Sam had seen glimpses of over seven years ago. But he didn’t say that out loud. “Reputations don’t matter if we have the same problem.”

Sam was expecting something witty, maybe something self-deprecating, but Gabriel just hummed thoughtfully and held the rag up to Sam’s face again. “Just between us,” he glanced up as he wiped the last of the blood off the hunter’s cheek. Golden eyes met hazel. “There’s a lot I admire about you.”

Sam ducked his head with a smile.

“And...if it makes you feel better…” Gabriel lowered the rag and sat back with a wry smirk. “...Rowena and I never...y'know—"

"Got to fifth base?"

Gabriel made a face. "...what the hell is fifth base?"

Sam just laughed. Honestly, genuinely, laughed. "I have no idea."


End file.
